


we are the guiltless pleasures

by achilleees_tua



Series: five/diego UST+seduction first time fics (the best niche genre) [4]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gay Chicken, M/M, Number Five Never Left AU, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achilleees_tua/pseuds/achilleees_tua
Summary: “We should clarify some boundaries,” Five said.“Boundaries?”“Of the…” Five waved between them.“Are you trying to define concrete rules for gay chicken?” Diego said, endeared despite himself.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Diego Hargreeves
Series: five/diego UST+seduction first time fics (the best niche genre) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1428244
Comments: 63
Kudos: 376





	we are the guiltless pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> for reference: five never left when he was 13; takes place when the kids are about 17-18 y/o, exact age undefined; diego has his comics-power of being able to hold his breath indefinitely (some lines will not make sense without knowing that).
> 
> this fic contains spoilers for the sixth sense. if you are one of the rare people who has not been spoiled yet for the sixth sense and cares about that, proceed with caution.
> 
> you ever start writing something thinking you know where it’s going and 13K later it turns out you really, really didn’t?

At exactly 12 PM on Saturday, Klaus poked his head into Diego’s room, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Urgent meeting in Luther’s room. Come now.”

“You’re full of shit,” Diego said, not looking up from his magazine.

Klaus huffed. “Which word did you not understand? Urgent, meeting, or _now?”_

“You’re — full — of — shit,” Diego said, drawing out each word individually. “I’m busy, fuck off.”

“You can jack it to ‘50s housewife porn tonight, c’mon, we only have a half hour,” Klaus said. “I wanna play truth or dare.”

“A, I’m not jacking it to ‘50s housewife porn,” Diego said — which wasn’t to say he didn’t have a stash hidden in his floorboards, but they didn’t need to talk about that. “And B, what are we, 12?”

“Look, I’m not wasting any more of the precious minutes of our half-hour of scheduled recreation arguing with you about this,” Klaus said. “If you don’t want to play, fine, the six of us will have a great time without you.”

Diego hesitated. “Six?”

“Yeah, everyone’s there waiting for you,” Klaus said. “Even _Five_ came.”

“Seriously?” Diego said, sitting up. The idea of the other six playing truth or dare without him didn’t sit well, it was true. “Fine, since you went to all that trouble and I feel sorry for you.”

“I’ll take what I can get, now hurry up,” Klaus said, disappearing from his doorway.

Diego stretched and followed him.

When they walked into Luther’s room, Luther raised an eyebrow. “So what’s so urgent, Klaus?”

“Truth or dare,” Diego said, taking a seat in the empty space between Luther and Allison.

“Wait, seriously?” Luther said. “He said it was important.”

“And you believed him?” Diego asked. “Christ, how dumb are you?”

Luther couldn’t seem to decide if he wanted to glare at Diego or Klaus. “He promised.”

“My bad, believing him was definitely the right call, then,” Diego said, rolling his eyes. He looked around at the others, gaze landing on Five, who seemed supremely unimpressed. “What’s your excuse, Brainiac?”

“He promised to do my chores this week,” Five said.

Diego sat upright. “Wait, I could have gotten —”

“Too late,” Klaus said merrily. “You’re already here. Diego, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Diego said, settling back against the wall. “I don’t feel like answering any questions about my jerk-off habits today, thanks.”

“How unoriginal do you think I am?” Klaus said, expression wounded.

Diego snorted.

“Oh please, Klaus,” Allison said. “Didn’t we get enough of this in the car ride home yesterday?”

Vanya looked between all of the others, expression uncertain.

“No, yesterday I had an angle,” Klaus corrected. “Yesterday was specifically about making Diego cop to having a schoolgirl fetish. Today is more open-ended.”

“I don’t have a fucking schoolgirl fetish,” Diego said. “You’re wasting time. I said dare.”

Five and Ben exchanged a knowing look that sent a spike of uncomfortable heat through Diego. Those two could go suck a dick.

“Fine,” Klaus said. “I dare you to lick the floor.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Diego said, but he moved onto his hands and knees, kneeling and swiping his tongue along the ground a good few inches. He made a face, scraping grit off his tongue with his fingers. “That’s disgusting, man.”

“You could have just answered one simple question, you chose to do that,” Klaus said smugly.

“I didn’t choose to lick the fucking floor,” Diego said.

“Do you think cursing constantly makes you sound badass, or do you just not know any other words?” Five asked, his tone idly curious.

Diego just barely managed to stop himself from saying _get fucked._ “Eat shit,” he said instead.

“Clever,” Five said, blinking slowly at him.

“Diego, just go,” Allison sighed.

“Five, truth or dare,” Diego said.

Five cocked his head at him. “Truth,” he said.

It was tempting to ask about Five’s jerk-off habits, but Diego didn’t like hypocrisy. “Honestly, you had a crush on that Swedish princess we rescued when we were 15, right?”

Five looked back at him for a long moment, gaze steady. Then he said, “Yes.”

“I so knew it,” Diego said, leaning back with a smirk.

“I marvel at your skills of deduction,” Five said. “Vanya, truth or dare.”

“Truth,” Vanya said.

Diego didn’t look away from Five, though. It could have been a trick of the light, but — he was sure the little bastard was blushing.

Thankfully, Klaus restrained himself — relatively — throughout the game, and Diego made it through the rest without licking anything else or revealing any uncomfortable sexual proclivities. Stupidly, he got complacent, especially when it was Allison’s turn and he wasn’t even the target. He spun a knife on his finger and waited as she pondered what dare to inflict on Five this time.

Then she said, “Kiss Diego,” and his stomach swooped.

“That’s bull,” Diego said immediately. “You can’t hit me in the fallout of someone else’s dare.”

“Since when was that a rule?” Allison said. “You didn’t seem to mind three turns ago when I was the one getting outed as Luther’s first kiss.”

“That’s different,” Diego said.

“How?”

He didn’t have an answer for that.

“I’ll do it if Diego wimps out,” Klaus said brightly.

“No, that’s boring, you’ll kiss anyone,” Allison said. “I want to see them kiss. I’m not sure which will be funnier, Diego freaking out about kissing a guy or Five freaking out about kissing anyone.”

Five made a little noise that Diego couldn’t decipher.

“I’m not freaking out about kissing a guy,” Diego said. “I just think it’s bullshit that —”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Allison said. “I’m sure there’s nothing homophobic behind your response at all.”

“That’s not it,” Diego said stubbornly. “It violates the spirit of the game.”

Five was watching him with those big gray eyes. Diego could feel his stare like a tangible object, boring into the side of his face.

Luther laughed. “You’re so transparent,” he said. “Just let him kiss you and get over yourself.”

Christ, Diego hated when he put on that lofty captain tone. “Yeah, nah,” he said. “I’ll let someone else endure that particular lecture when Dad opens the door and finds two of us kissing. You know that lecture already, right, Number One? Sounds like a particularly fun one.”

Luther flushed blotchily, and Allison shot Diego a poisonous glare. Ben was the only one that thought to check the time, seeing what Diego already knew. “Shit, he’ll be here any second,” he said, hopping up. “We need to clear out.”

The rest of them followed him up.

Diego could feel Five’s eyes on him like a brand.

It was his turn to do the breakfast dishes the next morning, but Diego had never minded that. He liked the kitchen, neat and orderly, everything in its proper place — liked listening to Grace’s quiet humming and the click of her heels as she cleaned up.

He especially liked having time without any of his siblings around pissing him off, so his shoulders drew up when he heard Five’s cool drawl behind him. “Reginald wants you.”

“Oh, thank you, Number Five,” Grace said cheerily, removing her apron and folding it neatly.

Diego scrubbed a pan and listened to her footsteps fading out. He tried to guess if Five was still behind him, senses on alert, but the room was silent and he had no idea.

He turned.

“You like it here,” Five said, still very much there, and Diego’s eyes narrowed. “You’re relaxed here.”

“You trying to say something?” Diego said.

Five shrugged one shoulder. “Is there something that warrants saying?”

“No.”

“Then no,” Five said. “Just an observation.”

The kitchen was cozy and familiar with Grace as its friendly guardian, her smile a balm against the wounds of everyday life. No shit Diego liked it there more than the rest of the house.

“Observe this,” was all he said, lifting his hand and flashing his middle finger at Five.

Five hummed, not leaving.

“Do you need something?” Diego said.

“I’m just curious about before,” Five said. “Your little episode in Luther’s room.”

Diego went back to washing the dishes, determined to ignore him.

“For someone who markets himself as such a lothario, the idea of kissing me sent you into quite a tailspin,” Five said.

“Oh, that’s not on,” Diego said, scowling at him. “Maybe I did it for your sake, huh? Didn’t seem like the right venue for your first kiss.”

“Please,” Five said. “The way you reacted, I’m not positive it wouldn’t have been _your_ first kiss.”

“Bull,” Diego said. “Don’t try to spin this around on me, virgin-boy. I’d know if you were sneaking out, and I know you aren’t.”

Five snorted. “You do realize I can teleport, yes? Just because I’m not hanging knotted sheets from the window like a young adult novel heroine doesn’t mean I don’t go out.”

Diego hesitated.

“You’d be shocked at what I’ve done,” Five said.

“Yeah, sure,” Diego said. “You’re a regular love machine.”

Five shrugged one shoulder.

“Don’t try to play all coy, you’re dying for me to ask,” Diego said. “Not gonna happen, man.”

“I wouldn’t answer even if you did,” Five said. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Neither do I.”

“Well,” Five said with that damnable smirk. “Seems to me like you don’t even kiss.”

Diego rolled his eyes. “You really think you’re more experienced than I am?”

“Evidence supports that conclusion, yes,” Five said.

“Let’s get this straight,” Diego said. “First off, me not wanting to kiss you doesn’t make me a prude.”

Five opened his mouth.

“And secondly,” Diego said, pulling off his rubber gloves and dropping them into the sink. He turned around, approaching Five slowly, taking his time with the approach. Stalking him like prey. “I’m not the shy one here. I promise you, I’ve done things that would make you blush like a virgin on her wedding night.”

“I don’t blush,” Five said.

Diego stepped right up in front of Five, reveling in the inches of height he had on him. “You want to bet on that, sweetheart?”

Five looked up at him with that infuriating expression he wore so often, cool and superior. “Try me.”

“Gladly,” Diego said, tracing his finger up Five’s jaw and over the curve of his lips.

He could hear the click of Grace’s heels approaching, and the way those big gray eyes widened, he knew Five heard it too.

“You’re bluffing,” Five said.

“Am I?” Diego said, leaning in so his breath ghosted over Five’s neck.

Grace’s footsteps were just around the corner — in five seconds she would turn into the kitchen and spot them — four, three, two —

Five warped out from under Diego’s hands just as Grace entered.

“Are you finished, Diego dear?” she said brightly.

“Just about,” Diego said, grinning back.

Diego smirked when he took his seat beside Five at dinner, the first time they’d been face to face since that morning. “I win,” he whispered.

“I didn’t blush,” Five muttered.

“I still win.”

Five’s eyes narrowed.

Diego probably should have taken that as a warning, but he didn’t think anything of it as everyone else lined up behind their chairs and Reginald came striding into the room. “Sit,” he said, and they all did.

Diego tucked into his meal, hungry after the day of rigorous training. He was halfway through his porkchop when he felt something settle on his thigh; when he looked down, he found Five’s hand resting there.

He choked.

Five looked at him, somehow wearing both the smile of an angel and the slanted eyes of a demon. “You alright?” he mouthed.

Diego glared hot poison at him.

Undeterred, Five walked his fingers up Diego’s thigh, approaching ever closer to his cock, which — to Diego’s horror — stirred under the attention. He stared fixedly down into his lap, and when he spared a glance up at Five, found that he was doing the same.

The part of Five’s lips was more pornographic than his hand an inch from his cock, Diego thought.

“Fucker,” he mouthed at him.

“Tell me to stop,” Five mouthed back.

Diego shook his head.

Just like that, Five moved his hand over that remaining inch, knuckles rubbing against Diego’s dick through his slacks.

Diego made a trapped groaning sound, as much from surprise as from pleasure. He hadn’t really thought Five would go for it; despite himself, he was impressed at his brazenness.

Across the table, Klaus looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

“Number Two?” Reginald said.

“Bit my tongue,” Diego said, and he gave in and yanked Five’s hand away by the wrist.

Reginald shot him an unimpressed look, but merely nodded and kept eating.

Five leaned in. “I win,” he whispered, and Diego kicked him under the table.

Diego climbed into the back of the black car after their Teen Vogue interview, self-consciously carding his hair out of its gelled state. When he found that Five was the only one inside, he paused for a moment — then smiled broadly, showing his teeth.

Five saw his expression and rolled his eyes.

“Well, hey there, Casanova,” Diego said, sliding up right next to Five so their thighs aligned. “Seduced any young maidens today?”

“We should clarify some boundaries,” Five said.

“Boundaries?”

“Of the…” Five waved between them.

“Are you trying to define concrete rules for gay chicken?” Diego said, endeared despite himself.

“Is that a thing?” Five said, blinking.

“Yeah,” Diego said, laughing. “You try to out-gay the other person.”

“And how do you win?”

“Whoever taps out first loses,” Diego said. “You lost in the kitchen.”

“Then you lost at dinner,” Five shot back.

“So we’re tied,” Diego said. He leaned in, blowing a warm stream of air over Five’s ear. “Not for long, though.”

“And this proves what exactly?” Five said, pressed back against the door as far as he could go, trapped.

“That I’m more experienced than you,” Diego said. “And that you can shove your _sounds like you don’t even kiss_ up your ass, virgin-boy.”

Five’s jaw clenched. “Jackass.”

Diego dropped his hand high up on Five’s thigh, fingers brushing the inner seam. “Feel free to say Uncle anytime.”

Five’s eyes locked over Diego’s shoulder on something out the window, widening. “Luther’s coming.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Diego said, tugging at Five’s earlobe with his canines.

Five’s breath hitched, his expression visibly conflicted before he gave in and planted his hands against Diego’s chest, shoving him off.

“That counts, you know,” Diego said, settling back into his seat.

“Get fucked,” Five said.

“Oh, well and often,” Diego purred.

Diego was leaving his post-training shower, rubbing a towel over his hair, when an idea occurred to him, spurred by the sound of rushing water in the next cubicle over.

For some reason, he’d been thinking that they had to take turns in this game they were playing. But that didn’t have to be the case — if he wanted to win, no one said he had to play fair.

He sidled over, checking over his shoulder before slipping into Five’s shower stall.

For a moment, he let himself watch, for once granted the luxury of admiring Five without anyone there to judge him for it. Five was weirdly precious about being admired — he could be so shy, even if he covered it well with that obnoxious smirk — and Diego let himself take in the sight of that lithe frame until he had every line and curve committed to memory.

Then he moved forward, letting his feet slap on the tile floor.

Five turned, then startled, hands flying to cover his groin. “Christ, when you said _no rules_ , you meant it,” he whispered. “Isn’t it my turn?”

“Cute, you think we have to take turns,” Diego said, conveniently ignoring his own recent change of heart on the matter. “Should I also issue you a warning beforehand? Perhaps a written announcement?”

Five rolled his eyes.

“A save the date card,” Diego added, grinning.

“Did you want something?” Five said, scowling at him as the water sluiced over him, plastering his hair to his head.

Diego tugged off the towel around his waist, hanging it next to Five’s on the hook.

Though his eyes widened, Five kept from dropping them through what seemed like Herculean effort. “Diego…?”

“Shh,” Diego said, and in a sudden motion he spun Five around and tugged his back flush against Diego’s chest. He moved his mouth to Five’s ear. “Quiet, or the others will hear.”

“Jesus,” Five breathed out. “You know this is exceedingly gay, right?”

“Then tap out,” Diego said. “I’ve sucked dick before, this tame shit doesn’t even register.” He skimmed his hand up Five’s belly, feeling the minute trembles coursing through him.

He was getting hard against Five’s ass — but then, Five’s dick was stirring also, so Diego couldn’t muster any real shame.

“Fuck, you have zero boundaries,” Five said, lifting his hand and wrapping his fingers around Diego’s wrist, though he didn’t try to tug it away.

Diego traced the shell of Five’s ear with the tip of his tongue. “Don’t even know the meaning of the word, babe.”

“No wonder you and — Klaus get along so well,” Five said, voice unsteady.

Diego shrugged. “We egg each other on, I guess.”

“Are you two…?” Five said.

Diego snorted. “Fuck, he wishes.” It sounded colder out loud than he intended, and he winced.

Five craned his neck to look up at him, frowning slightly.

“You know,” Diego said. “I mean, I know we don’t talk about it, but…”

“He wants it,” Five said in a tone like he was only just realizing it. “With you.”

Diego quirked his lips. “Why do you think I didn’t kiss you in front of him?”

“That’s why?” Five said, brow furrowing. “Because Klaus…?”

“I dunno, it just felt unnecessary,” Diego said. “Mean.” Talking about it made him feel itchy, and he moved his hand down and ran his fingers just where the band of Five’s underwear normally would have lain, making him jerk. “Fuck, you’re so sensitive,” he breathed out. It was supposed to sound taunting, and missed the mark by a country mile.

“And you’re a fucking — cheater,” Five said breathlessly, head tipping back to rest on Diego’s shoulder.

“I’m not,” Diego said, pressing his open mouth to the join of Five’s neck and shoulder.

“You _are_ ,” Five said, gorgeously tense in Diego’s arms.

“Well,” Diego said, smirking. “Maybe a little.” He bit down.

Five gave a broken mewling sound, hips bucking.

“Five?” Luther said, concerned voice carrying from a few stalls over. “Are you alright?”

Five’s eyes snapped open. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Diego moved his hand down, inch by slow, tantalizing inch, both of them staring fixedly as his fingers hovered over the head of Five’s cock.

“Five?” Luther said again.

Five mustered all of his willpower and shoved away Diego’s hand, ripping out of his grasp. “Fine,” he said, in a close approximation of his normal controlled drawl. “Just fine, Luther.”

He glared at Diego, who flexed his hand, trying to feel anything but disappointed.

“ _Oof_ ,” Klaus said, strolling into their classroom before Latin class with an affected grimace. “Do _not_ bother Haley Joel Osment right now. He is in a _mood_.”

Diego raised an eyebrow at him. “You talking about yourself in third person, champ?”

“What? No,” Klaus said, throwing himself into his seat. “I’m talking about Five, obviously. You’re the one that calls him that, you should know.”

“No, I call _you_ Haley Joel Osment,” Diego said.

“Why?” Klaus said.

Diego shot Allison a baffled look.

“Because you can see dead people?” Allison said, equally thrown. “Is this a trick question?”

“What does Haley Joel Osment have to do with that?” Klaus said.

“Klaus, what in the hell are you talking about?” Diego said.

“Haley Joel Osment!” Klaus said. “AI: Artificial Intelligence, robot-boy who wants to feel love! Aka, Five.”

Diego leaned back, thinking about this. “Huh,” he said. “That’s… not bad, actually.”

“Wait, when you say Haley Joel Osment, you were talking about me every time?” Klaus said. “In retrospect, I am offended.”

“You really thought I was giving Five shit for getting off on his own quirkiness?” Diego asked.

“You thought Diego was saying Five wears too much perfume?” Allison asked.

“Sure,” Klaus said. “I still don’t get why I’m Haley Joel Osment.”

Diego rubbed his temples.

“He sees dead people, Klaus,” Allison said.

“Say what now?” Klaus said.

“Why is Five in a mood?” Ben said wearily.

“Oh, right!” Klaus said, brightening now that he was back in the spotlight of his own initiative. “So I’m walking down the hall, minding my own business, not doing anything, and Five opens his door and does his angry cat impression at me, all hissing at me to breathe quieter. Very rude.”

“Start the story over and this time tell us what you were actually doing,” Diego said.

“No, seriously!” Klaus said. “I wasn’t doing anything.” He kicked back, propping his feet on Diego’s desk. “Minding. My own. Business.”

Allison shot Diego a skeptical look. “You’re full of it,” she said. “If anything, Five’s been in a better mood than ever lately. I swear I’ve never seen him smile so much in my life.”

Diego chewed on his eraser, wondering whether this was true — and if it was, why that made him feel so stupidly warm.

“Yeah, he’s been relaxed,” Ben agreed. “Try again, Klaus.”

“You people are gaslighters and con artists,” Klaus announced. “I’m being conned. I’m being gaslit.”

“Man, shut up,” Diego said. “Just because Five wouldn’t let you copy his Latin homework or whatever—”

“Shit,” Klaus said, scrambling to open his workbook to the right page. “Speaking of which, can I copy your Latin homework?”

“Fuck off,” Diego said.

“Ben,” Klaus said.

Ben sighed and passed Klaus his workbook.

“You shouldn’t enable him,” Allison said.

“If I don’t, he’ll never shut up,” Ben said.

“That’s why you shouldn’t enable him,” Allison said. “Whatever, I wash my hands of this.”

“Ben’s the only good sibling,” Klaus said. “That’s why he’s my favorite.” He paused to think. “Tied for first, at least.” He batted his eyelashes at Diego.

“Desperate isn’t a cute look on you,” Allison said.

“Jealous isn’t a good look on _you,”_ Klaus shot back. “Not my fault I’m hotter in a skirt than you are.”

Allison flipped him off.

“Christ,” Diego said, running his hand through his hair. “Can we start class already?”

Five entering the room was an answer to that. Five always arrived one minute before class started, exact to the second. Diego had an image in his head of Five sitting in his room watching the second hand on his watch to time the teleportation right, but he’d never caught him in the act.

“Move, dumbass,” Five said, bodily shoving Klaus’s legs off Diego’s desk so he could walk through unhindered.

 _See_ , Klaus’s pointed gaze said to Diego.

Diego chewed on his pencil and wondered.

The clack of his cane heralded Reginald’s approach just before his frame filled the doorway; Diego saw the way his siblings braced themselves in unison with him, wondering which one was due for punishment this time.

“Number Two,” Reginald said.

Diego’s shoulders slumped. The 76% on his chemistry test in Reginald’s hand mocked him as he stood up, gathering his things.

Klaus shot him a sympathetic glance as he walked past him.

“Sit,” Reginald said, leading him to the table downstairs. He placed Diego’s test in front of him along with his chemistry textbook. “Begin.”

No instructions were necessary; Diego drew his test paper over to himself and started scanning through it from the top. Reginald didn’t believe in telling them which questions were incorrect, making them find the wrong answers in order to fix them, which was probably a good education technique if you were a _total fucking sadist_.

Reginald took his place at the head of the table, newspaper unfolded neatly in front of him.

Diego muddled his way through most of his errors over an excruciating half-hour, but it became progressively harder to find the missteps, and he had chewed the eraser on his pencil to shreds by the time he heard something rustle by his feet.

He leaned back, checking under the table —

And blanched when he found Five’s gray eyes staring mischievously back at him. Five mimed for quiet with a finger at his lips.

Diego swung his gaze up to Reginald, but thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Diego looked back at Five and mouthed, _What the fuck?_

Five circled his finger around Diego’s ankle, squeezing.

Five was certifiable, Diego decided, heat flushing through him just at that light touch. Five was _insane_.

Five was walking his fingers up Diego’s calf. Five was spreading Diego’s knees with both hands and sliding between them. Five was looking up at him with those piercing eyes like a spotlight into Diego’s soul.

Diego bit grooves into the wood of his pencil, teeth clamping down hard to vent his quickly mounting arousal. He shifted in place, darting another wary glance at Reginald, who stayed oblivious.

Five’s mouth latched onto Diego’s inner thigh through his slacks, wet and hot even through the fabric. Diego could feel every individual finger on his thighs like a brand.

Diego looked down at Five’s face, but from that angle, his sweep of hair hid his eyes from view, enigmatic and alluring. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, how affected _he_ was by their positioning. Did it matter? Another few inches up and Five’s mouth would be on his —

“Sir?” Diego rasped out. “May I go get a drink of water?”

Reginald sighed, put-upon. “You will stay here until you have finished your correction to my satisfaction. I will fetch it.” He stood and walked out.

“Dude,” Diego hissed, twisting his hand in Five’s hair and dragging his head up. “Are you crazy?”

“You like it,” Five said, full of breathless, smirking arrogance. To his credit, he had some visible evidence in his favor not five inches from his face.

“You are not putting your mouth on my dick ten feet away from Dad,” Diego said. “Not even through my pants.”

“Sounds like quitter talk to me,” Five remarked.

Diego chuckled. “You’re a little sex dream, you know that?” he said, hand gentling in Five’s hair. “Christ.”

Five looked like he was trying not to look pleased. “Is that a compliment?”

“Only if you take it as one,” Diego said. He heard Reginald’s footsteps returning and hurriedly shoved his test at Five under the table. “Quick, what’s the answer to question 8?”

Five scanned it. “CH4,” he whispered, passing it back.

“Thanks,” Diego said. “Now get the fuck out of here before I come in my pants.”

“That’s not very good incentive,” Five replied, but he’d teleported away by the time Reginald slid the glass of water across the table to Diego.

 _CH 4,_ Diego wrote down, willing his heart rate to slow.

Diego listened hard, trying to hear past the ambient ticks and rustles of an old house at night. Satisfied that he wouldn’t be interrupted by his siblings or Grace or, god forbid, Pogo, he dug around under his floorboards and unearthed a glossy magazine.

He sat upright in his bed, resting his hand over the curve of his cock through his uniform pants as he flipped open the magazine to the first page.

The genuine vintage shit didn’t really do it for him; their hair was always terrible. Modern girls cosplaying 50s housewives, that was where the magic was. Like this spread — a blond girl with big tits in a red polka dot dress, the front of her hair pinned up in elaborate victory rolls, the rest of it cascading down her back in an anachronistic, golden waterfall.

He cupped his hardening cock in his hand, visualizing the way her ass would jiggle as she scrubbed at a particularly greasy pan, how those gorgeous dimples by her spine would stand out as she leaned over to vacuum under the couch.

The next girl was dark-haired, her hair pulled back in a French twist, all done up in vintage lingerie, the bra and panties and _garters_. Diego had a thing for garters. If she hadn’t been shaved down there, she could have almost passed for a real 50s housewife.

He unzipped his pants, drawing out his bare cock and giving it a few strokes, a harsh breath leaving him at the contact.

The blond girl was back on the next page, and _damn_ , the French maid look. Call him a cliché, but Diego couldn’t resist it. He could just imagine flipping that skirt up and leaning in, his cock nestled against the cleft of her ass through those white satin panties. Winding her hair in coils around his hand as he pushed into her, the way her back would bow, the sweet little sigh she would make, just like the sound Five had made when Diego had bit down on his shoulder —

He forced his eyes open.

He wasn’t fucking jerking off thinking about Five _again_. Three nights in a row was already excessive.

A new girl was on the next page: red-haired, like they were aiming to fill out a set. Her tits were smaller than the others, practically flat, but her legs went on for fucking miles. Diego hesitated on her for a moment, gauging his interest, then he gave up and flipped to the next page.

The dark-haired girl with the French twist was back, now in nothing but the garter and stockings. Whoever had done the photo shoot had known what they were doing, because her hair was coming loose, falling in sexily disheveled tendrils around her face. Like it might look after Diego pressed her back into the mattress and kissed her until she was flushed and breathless, and the bright gleam of her eyes matched it.

She was kneeling, looking straight up into the camera, and Diego’s hand sped up without thinking about it. She had enchantingly dark eyes, already piercing on their own and an absolute gut-punch with the mascara making them pop. The way a girl would look up at him from between his knees, her hand around his cock, in control and aware of it.

Her expression was vacant, lips parted, but her mouth looked like it was made for smirking. Or — the other direction — made for sucking dick, the kind of lips that would look right at home stretched around his cock, with her twinkling eyes boring up into his as she teased at him with little kitten licks.

She looked like the kind of girl who would tease. The kind of girl who would torment him, keep him hooked, play coy until Diego begged. But she wouldn’t hold out forever, she’d want to be the best and she’d want Diego to know it. She’d sink down all the way, all the way down until she choked — but she wouldn’t stop, she’d just center herself and keep going. She’d master her gag reflex through sheer willpower, relaxing her throat so she could take him down deep, and he wouldn’t be able to keep from giving a harsh groan that would make her hum with satisfaction, vibrating through him so damn good he’d be left squirming for more. Her dark eyes would narrow, messy hair falling forward and catching on those thick eyelashes — swallow around him, not caring about the mess of spit and precome leaking out onto his knuckles. He’d lean forward, single-minded focus, all of his attention on Diego, like there was nothing in the world more important than this, than him — a fucking marching band could have walked through the room and he’d stay right where he was, like there was nowhere else he would rather have been, no one else he would rather have been with —

Diego came, back arching off the bed, striping his uniform shirt in pearly streaks until he was dry, and spent, and sated.

He collapsed back on the bed, panting, and stared up at the ceiling.

Four nights in a row.

 _Dammit_.

“Hey!” Allison said when Diego opened the bathroom door. “Occupied!”

“Relax, I’m just washing off the oil,” Diego said, showing her the oil coating his hands after his weekly knife maintenance. He shouldered her out of the way of the sink and turned on the hot water, scrubbing his hands under the flow. “You know those face masks are bullshit, right?”

She made a face at him, less than threatening with the goop caking her skin. “Shouldn’t you be jerking off in a mirror?”

“Shouldn’t you be stuffing your bra?” Diego said.

“Shouldn’t you be following Mom around hoping she accidentally trips and lands with her mouth on your dick?”

Diego scowled at her, face hot. “Shouldn’t you be—” He furrowed his brow. “Shouldn’t you be doing dishes? But actually?”

“Five traded with me,” Allison said. “He and Vanya have plans on Thursday, or whatever.”

“Oh,” Diego said, turning thoughtfully. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” she said, shoving at his back. “Get out of my bathroom.”

He went without argument, taking the stairs two at a time and strolling into the kitchen.

“Well, hey thar, li’l darlin’,” he said, swaggering up behind Five, hands rested on the sink on either side of him. “What’s a pretty gal like you doin’ alone in a place like this?”

“You’re weird,” Five said, rinsing a glass.

Diego set his mouth on the base of Five’s neck. “You’ve got plans with Vanya on Thursday?”

“Nothing that would interest you.”

“I beg to differ,” Diego said. “C’mon, tell me.” He scraped his teeth over the topmost vertebra of Five’s spine.

Five elbowed him. “I’m doing the dishes. Sexually harass me after I’m done.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Diego said, trying to get his hand up Five’s shirt, thwarted by the apron tied around Five’s hips. He reached around with both hands, fumbling blindly for the knot in the apron strings — and shamelessly copping a feel on Five’s dick while he was in the area, pleased to find it thickening.

“Watch it,” Five said, elbowing him again.

“My bad,” Diego said, snickering as he found the knot and tugged at one end of it. “God damn, what kind of fucking knot…?”

Five looked down his body. “You can’t tell by feel?”

Feeling challenged, Diego softened his touch, feeling over the strings with his fingertips. “Is it some kind of sailor’s knot?”

“A Carrick Bend,” Five said.

 _“Why,”_ Diego said.

Five shrugged.

“Lunatic,” Diego said, and spun Five to face him.

Five didn’t struggle, resting his hands on the edge of the sink on either side of himself. “If you’re going to keep me from washing the dishes, you had better be volunteering to help dry,” he said mildly as Diego undid the knot with a few confident tugs.

Diego couldn’t help but notice that Five wasn’t telling him to stop.

“Yeah, yeah,” Diego said, slipping his thigh between Five’s legs and grinding up in the guise of reaching past him to turn off the running faucet, viscerally enjoying the way Five’s breath hitched. “Hey, so what are you and Vanya doing on Thursday?”

“You’re seriously asking me that — right now,” Five said, the most delicious flush starting to rise on his cheeks. His glare up at Diego had no bite to it whatsoever. “Seriously?”

“Sue me, I’m curious,” Diego said, dropping his hand and forming it around Five’s dick through his pants, now fully hard.

Five’s head dropped back, eyelashes fluttering. “Why do you, _ah_ , care so much?”

“Is it a crime to want to know more about two of my favorite siblings?” Diego said with a winning smile.

Somehow Five managed to convey skepticism in his ragged breathing.

“For example,” Diego said, punctuating this with a slow grind of his hand, “have you and Vanya ever hooked up? Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Vanya?” Five said. “You think I’ve hooked up with Vanya?”

His incredulity both relieved and embarrassed Diego. “It’s not such an insane idea.”

“Some of us don’t make it a, nnh, point to play scavenger hunt with our siblings’ virtues,” Five said, hips rocking forward toward Diego’s hand.

“Virtue, what virtue?” Diego said. “Thought you were supposed to be some kind of sexual savant, how much virtue can you possibly have left? And what do you mean, scavenger hunt?”

Five ringed his fingers in a tight circle around Diego’s wrist. “Either jerk me off or ask me questions, but you can’t do both,” he said, scowling up at him.

Diego pulled his hand away.

Five pouted.

Diego chuckled, endeared by his disappointment. “Relax, you’ll get it back after you answer.”

“Ben told me you and Klaus used to hook up,” Five said. “Seems like you’re making your way through the ranks.”

“Two out of six isn’t a trend,” Diego said.

“It’s 33%,” Five said. “That’s not negligible.”

“You can’t form patterns from a sample size this small,” Diego shot back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the science geek here, Bill Nye?”

“I’m just saying you have a type,” Five said stubbornly, the way he always got when he was backed into a corner. “Dark-haired twinks, right? Get them hooked and then drop them?”

“Hey, fuck you,” Diego said, wounded. “I stopped sleeping with Klaus when I realized it meant more to him than it did to me. Don’t act like that’s so wrong.”

Five looked away. “It’s an observation.”

“It’s an accusation, and it’s full of shit,” Diego said. “You can notice I have a type, you don’t have to call me a slut for it.”

Five’s throat worked as he swallowed; even through his hurt, Diego couldn’t help but track it fixedly. “You’re right,” Five said. “That was uncalled-for.”

“Damn right,” Diego said. He toyed with Five’s dangling apron string, now undone. It felt weird to go back to touching Five’s dick after that, even though it was still visibly hard through his pants. “You, uh, still want help drying?”

Five looked up at him, startled. “It’s okay,” he said after a moment. “I can do it.”

They both knew it was his way of apologizing.

“Nah,” Diego said, taking the place next to Five and reaching for a dishtowel. He flashed him a crooked smile. “I insist.”

Klaus could hardly wait until the hovercraft took off before he burst out, “Did you see the women in the windows?”

“What women?” Luther said.

Klaus burst into a peel of laughter. “Only you, Luther.”

Luther looked around at the others. “What women?”

“Prostitutes,” Ben said.

“Wait, what?” Luther said.

“It’s Amsterdam, baby,” Diego said, wiping the blood off his knives with a damp cloth. He’d clean them better when he had a sink with running water. “The famous red light district — Hold up, Klaus, if you made up that the ghosts directed us there just to see the window hookers —”

“It was a happy surprise for me too,” Klaus defended. “You know, I didn’t realize there would be literal red lights in the windows.”

“Why’d you think it’s called the red light district, dumbass?” Allison said.

“I dunno, I guess I thought it was a metaphor?” Klaus said.

“Red lights mean stop,” Ben pointed out. “You’d think the prostitution signal would be a green light if it were a metaphor. All systems go.”

“Maybe their traffic lights are flipped in Amsterdam,” Klaus said. “Can you say with full confidence that they’re not?”

Ben hesitated.

“Ha! Game, set, spike,” Klaus said triumphantly.

“Game, set, match,” Ben said.

Simultaneously, Diego said, “Bump, set, spike.”

“I’ve heard it both ways,” Klaus said.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Ben said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“This conversation is inane,” Allison said.

“I can’t believe I missed all of that,” Luther said.

Klaus cackled. “Disappointed?”

“No,” Luther said. “Just…” He frowned. “Doesn’t speak well of my observational skills.”

“Yeah, work on that, Number One,” Diego said, grinning. “Keep an eye out for the window hookers next time.”

Luther looked truly disgruntled that he had no defense against this.

“Those houses were _so_ cute,” Allison said. “All squished together on the water like that. I can totally imagine moving there in a few years.”

Luther stiffened.

“I bet they’re mad expensive,” Klaus said. “No way could you afford it.”

Allison smirked a little. “I don’t know, I’ve heard I can be persuasive.”

“Okay, fair,” Klaus said. “But for the rest of us mere mortals.”

Allison flipped her hair.

“How much do you think one of those apartments costs to rent?” Klaus asked the rest of them. “Ballpark estimate.”

Diego hesitated. He had no sense of proportion here. 500 dollars a month was probably low, and 5000 a month was probably high. Somewhere in the middle? “Couple thousand?”

“Hm,” Klaus said. “Hey, Five.”

Diego looked over, realizing belatedly that Five hadn’t said anything that whole time, even though mocking them was second only to lecturing them on his list of favorite hobbies.

Instead, he was staring out the window of the hovercraft, expression vacant. He seemed a million miles away.

“Five!” Klaus said, throwing Diego’s knife oil at him.

Five gave an irritated noise as it glanced off his shoulder, turning to scowl at Klaus.

“Why would Five know the cost of rent in Amsterdam, doofus?” Allison said. “He’s not omniscient.”

“It’s too variable a question,” Five said, looking back out the window. “How many bedrooms, furnished or unfurnished, how close to the canals, what kind of square footage? You’re not getting a one bedroom near Amsterdam Central for much less than 2000 euros per month. I’d say on average, estimated 11 euros per square foot.”

“Ha, see!” Klaus said, flipping Allison off.

Diego sat, a twist in his stomach, wondering how many other cities’ rental prices Five knew off the top of his head.

Once the others were fully distracted — Klaus asleep on Ben’s shoulder, Allison and Luther speaking in hushed tones with their heads close together — Diego went and sat across from Five.

Five flicked his gaze over without turning his head, giving a questioning hum.

Diego opened his mouth, then closed it. He inhaled. “Hey,” he said finally.

“Yes?” Five said.

Diego cracked his knuckles one by one. “You…”

“Whatever it is, just spit it out,” Five said, looking back out the window.

Diego wanted to, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Diego?” Five said. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, shut up,” Diego said, and at least that was easy to say. He scrambled for something to fill the silence, and landed on — “So I’ve been wondering, how’d you lose your virginity, anyway?”

“Seriously?” Five said, but he relaxed back in his seat. “The way anyone does it, I suppose. Fumblingly, with awkward fits and starts.”

Diego made a face at him. “Yeah, that’s really what I meant.”

Five smiled a little. “With Ben, actually, for the explicit purpose of getting it over with.”

It took Diego a moment to realize this wasn’t a joke, and another moment for his stomach to start churning. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

Five cocked an eyebrow.

It took Diego concerted effort to keep his voice down. “After the amount of shit you give me for hooking up with Klaus, and you popped your cherry with Ben?”

“I don’t give you shit for hooking up with Klaus, and it’s different,” Five said, and only in his weird little Five brain could those two statements be simultaneously true. “Ben’s not in love with me.”

“Yeah, that’s _why_ I stopped hooking up with him,” Diego said. “I still don’t understand why I’m getting punished for this.”

“In what way am I punishing you?” Five said, scowling. “I’m hardly getting on your case about it. You’re inflating your own importance in your mind.”

Part of Diego wanted to pick the fight, but his cheek throbbed from being thrown into the side of a building and he couldn’t really feel threatened by Ben. It was like feeling threatened by a particularly deferential chinchilla.

“Fine, so you lost it to Ben,” Diego said. “How was it?”

“Fumbling,” Five said.

“I got that already,” Diego said. “Let’s try other adjectives.”

Five thought for a moment. “Quick.”

Fumbling and quick. Diego _really_ wasn’t threatened. “Uh huh?”

“It was a good time,” Five said, shrugging. “We weren’t taking it too seriously. We both got off. All in all, I’d call it a rousing success.”

“Sounds like it,” Diego said. “When was it?”

“Hang on, it’s your turn,” Five said. “Who was your first?”

“A groupie,” Diego said. “She was chasing after us yelling about how she wanted to suck my dick, so…” He shrugged. “I let her.”

“It would be difficult for me to be less surprised,” Five said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Diego said. “So how experienced are you really, Casanova? Checked all the boxes?”

“Of the various permutations of mouth, dick, vagina, fingers, and ass, I’ve experienced most,” Five said matter-of-factly.

It took Diego a moment to rally from that one. Then he said, “How’d you like ass-on-vagina?”

“Christ, you’re such a twat,” Five said.

“Did you seriously just call me a twat?” Diego said, grinning.

“Were you being a twat?”

“Maybe a bit,” Diego said. “You like it.”

Five looked back out the window, smiling.

“Hey,” Diego said, grabbing Five’s shoulder as they all filed into the Academy, keeping him back from the others. “Are we still…?”

Five looked up at him. “Unless you’re tapping out.”

“Bullshit I’m tapping out,” Diego said. “You know I’m winning.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Five said.

“That’s the one way of putting it, yes,” Diego agreed.

“We’ll see,” Five said, following the others inside.

Diego grinned.

“I am _so bored_ ,” Klaus said, putting his head down on the table.

“Yeah, if only there were something you could be doing to occupy your mind right now,” Ben said, his tone Sahara-dry. “Luther, check me?”

Luther held out his hand to take Ben’s workbook.

“Look, I’m doing my best here,” Klaus said. “But the words keep transforming into, like, Russian, because I’ve tried reading this sentence at least six times and I’m definitely not getting anything in coherent English. Maybe I picked up Ben’s Dostoyevsky by mistake.”

Diego looked at Klaus’s book. _The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Volume IV._ “Don’t think so, champ.”

“Ugh,” Klaus said. “What about you, Ben? Working on anything more interesting than Theodoric the Ostrogoth?”

“Math,” Ben said.

“Luther, what are you working on?”

“Ben’s math,” Luther said.

Klaus banged his head on the table.

“Stop doing that, you’re fucking up my sine wave,” Allison said crossly, scrubbing an eraser over her workbook.

“When I die of lack of stimulation and none of you can channel me, you’re all going to feel _so guilty_ ,” Klaus announced.

“Klaus,” Diego said.

Klaus perked up.

“I will pay you to stop talking.”

“Ugh!” Klaus said again. He propped his cheek on his hand dolefully. “Five, you’re my last hope. What are you reading about?”

“The history of social security numbers,” Five said.

Allison looked up at him. “That’s not an assignment.”

“Astute observation,” Five said, marking something down.

“So you’re reading about the history of social security numbers for _fun_?” Allison said. “Truly, you have outdone yourself. We might need to invent a new word for you, because nerd isn’t strong enough. Ultrageek. Uberdweeb.”

“Dr Dorkus Maximus Esquire,” Klaus said.

“Redundant,” Five said, not looking up. “You only use esquire when you don’t include a prenominal honorific.”

Ben looked up. “I thought it was used for lawyers.”

Five sighed.

“Why are you reading about social security numbers?” Diego asked, feeling cold.

Five shrugged one shoulder. “Call it curiosity.”

Call it preparation, Diego thought.

Diego counted a full 60 seconds in his head, then he nudged Five under the table.

Five looked up.

Diego tilted his head toward the racks of library shelves.

Five pressed his lips together, eyes flicking around to each of their siblings before landing back on Diego. He raised a single eyebrow.

Diego stood up, stretching. “Gotta grab a book,” he said, then wandered off into the stacks.

It was probably only about two minutes before Five showed up, but each second _dragged._ Finally, he strolled around the corner with his hands in his pockets, wearing that damnable smirk.

“You have never looked like more of a tool,” Diego told him.

“I find that difficult to believe,” Five said.

“Okay, fair,” Diego said. He caught Five around the wrist, reeling him in until Five was close enough for Diego to settle his other hand low on his back.

“Hey,” Five said, damnable smirk even more damnable from a few inches away. “I feel like a secretary being propositioned by her deeply inappropriate boss.”

“With a name like Peggy-Sue or Kitty,” Diego said. “Fetch me those files, would you, doll?” He pinched Five’s ass.

Five jumped a little. “Mr. Hargreeves!” he said, affecting a high lilt. “I am _appalled_.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Diego said, grinning. “You know I think you’re a real peach. Now c’mere and give me some of that sugar.”

“I can’t tell if you’re going for 20’s mobster or 50’s suburban father-slash-breadwinner,” Five said in his normal tone.

“I think I was going for a Pan Am pilot feel,” Diego said thoughtfully. “With a splash of WWII army enlistment poster thrown in.”

Five laughed.

“But seriously, c’mere and give me some of that sugar,” Diego said, burying his face in Five’s neck and nipping at his soft skin.

Five gave the most delightful shiver. “No marks.”

“Course not, you think I’m crazy?” Diego said. He moved off regretfully. “It’s a damn shame, you’d look good with some hickeys on you.”

“So I’ve heard,” Five said.

Diego pulled back. “Who has ever told you that you look good with hickeys?”

“Do we need to go over the purpose of this entire exercise again?” Five said. “I hook up, Diego.”

“With people who tell you you’d look good with hickeys?” Diego said.

“Once someone puts their mouth on your ass, there’s not a lot that seems too risqué.”

Diego gave a strangled sound. “Like — rimjobs?”

Five raised his eyebrows, then a wicked smile curled his lips. “Yes, like rimjobs. You should try it sometime, it’s great fun.”

 _Lie_ , Diego’s mind told him, but he could tell from the glint in Five’s eye that it would only go worse for him if he tried. “Whatever,” he said instead. “There’s plenty I’ve done that you haven’t.”

“Try me,” Five said.

“I’ll come up with a list by tomorrow,” Diego said. “For now, we’ve only got a few minutes until our siblings notice how long we’ve been gone, and I’d rather spend that time making you blush, sweetheart.”

“I don’t blush,” Five said.

“You can keep saying that, but it doesn’t make it true,” Diego said. He slipped his hand into Five’s back pocket and gave a squeeze. “You don’t have to be shy, you’re so cute when you blush.”

“I’ll bite you,” Five said, baring his teeth.

“No marks,” Diego shot back, smirking.

Five kissed him instead, just like that. Fisted both hands in his hair and dragged him into it, crushing their lips together, viciously and captivatingly intent.

Once he was past his initial moment of surprise, Diego kissed back, sliding his hand down the back of Five’s thigh and hitching it up. Five allowed himself to be manhandled, pliant in a way he’d never been, allowing Diego to support the bulk of his weight.

“Christ,” Diego said, tracing Five’s jaw with a light fingertip. “I promise you, I’ve done that before.”

“Yeah,” Five said, slightly out of breath. “You’re not half bad.”

Diego smiled and kissed him again, one arm around Five’s back, the other reaching up to cradle the back of his head. He liked being bigger than Five, taller, being able to envelop him in his arms. It was the kind of thing Klaus would him shit for, but he couldn’t help it.

“You like kissing me,” he murmured when he next pulled away to let Five breathe.

“You say that like I ever claimed not to,” Five said.

“I’m just saying,” Diego said, pressing his thigh between Five’s legs more firmly, pressure against Five’s dick. “You _like_ kissing me.”

“Shut up.”

“Kiss me again and make me,” Diego said, already addicted.

Five did.

Diego had lost track of the murmur of their siblings’ voices in the pleasant oblivion of Five’s lips, so he startled when Klaus’s voice suddenly rang out from nearby. “Fiiive?”

He ripped his lips away, instinctively taking his hands off Five.

Five didn’t seem to hear — or rather, Five didn’t seem to _care_. He hooked his fingers in Diego’s belt loops. “Don’t stop.” He tilted his chin up, eyes so deliciously dreamy it was all Diego could do to tear his gaze away.

“He’s right there,” Diego said, turning his head, trying to predict from Klaus’s footsteps how close he was.

“Five! The library is not big enough for you to hide from me,” Klaus said.

Five shrugged. “We’ve got more time.”

Diego scrubbed the back of his hand over his lips. “Christ, fine, you win this time. I fold.”

Five drew back. A strange expression passed over his face, rendering him momentarily unfamiliar. For an instant, Diego had the feeling he wouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a lineup. 

Then Five smirked, a rubber band snapping back to shape. “Too easy,” he said, and in a flash he was gone.

Diego was still staring at the vacant space where he’d been when Klaus poked his head around the corner. “Seen Five?”

“No,” Diego said, feeling weirdly like he wasn’t lying.

He felt off all day, unfulfilled in a way he couldn’t qualify, the vague dissatisfaction of a puzzle left with its last piece missing. It put him in a weird mood: not upset, but unsettled, a fog in his head and weights on his ankles. He didn’t snap from his fugue until he turned a corner and caught sight of the back of Five’s head slipping into Reginald’s study.

Diego instantly froze, flooded with an inexplicable sense of hot, sour guilt. It was exactly like he had felt once when Grace caught him out of bed at night, and exactly like he would have felt if Reginald had caught _him_ breaking into his office. His palms itched.

Checking over his shoulder, he crept to the door and peeked inside, spotting the top of Five’s head as he crouched in front of Reginald’s desk, fiddling with something.

Abandoning his better judgment, Diego walked into the study and stopped in front of the desk. “You would be in so much trouble now if I were Dad.”

He’d hoped to make Five jump, but he didn’t get any visible reaction. “You think I can’t hear the difference in the way you walk?” Five said, annoyingly unruffled.

“Where is he?” Diego said, looking around.

“Vanya’s distracting him,” Five said. “Go stand watch, would you?”

“Thought you could hear his footsteps.”

“Not when you’re standing there blithering at me,” Five said.

Diego scowled at him. “Why didn’t you just teleport in here instead of picking the lock, anyway? Surprised you didn’t think of that yourself, genius-boy.”

“Of course I thought of it,” said Five.

Diego looked to the door. “What, you’re trying to get caught?”

“Not exactly,” said Five, tongue poking of his mouth a little as he finally worked open the safe lock. It was, irritatingly, among the more adorable things Diego had seen in his life.

Not adorable enough to keep him from chucking a paperweight at Five’s head when he pieced together what Five meant, though.

“Ow!” Five said, glaring at him.

“Dude, stealing from Dad is one thing, framing the rest of us for it is bullshit,” Diego said.

“I’m not framing you,” Five said. “But when he finds 2000 dollars missing from his safe, I’d prefer his investigation to center around seven possibilities rather than just one.”

“You’re stealing 2000 dollars from him?” Diego said. “For _what?”_

Five just smirked, pocketing fistfuls of cash.

“C’mon, Five,” Diego said. “What’s the money for?”

“Nothing in particular,” Five said.

“Bullshit,” Diego said. “Tell me.”

Five shut the safe and locked it again before rising to his feet. He faced Diego, hip cocked, attractive like a poisonous flower and obviously aware of it. “I welcome you to try to convince me to.”

Diego cast another look back to the door. Resisting that temptation took strength he didn’t have. “Fucking tease,” he said, and crossed the distance between them.

Five had already hopped up onto the desk by the time Diego reached him, and Diego moved between his legs without a conscious thought, like coming home. Five tipped his face up and Diego tipped his face down, their lips meeting in the middle. Five’s fingers locked in Diego’s hair, keeping him there for a series of long, sweet kisses. Each one felt like plunder, stolen goods made all the more exhilarating for how forbidden they were — the ill-gotten gains of the boy in his arms.

Diego had never known what it meant to feel breathless before.

“Christ,” Diego said, as Five twined around him, arms around his neck and ankles hooking behind his thighs, tugging him in, enveloping as quicksand.

 _“Christ,”_ Diego said when Five sucked on his lower lip and ground against him and mapped his shoulder muscles with deft, clever hands.

Diego had to surface for air, pushing Five back and shaking his head at him. “You’re not getting me naked in Dad’s office, you little demon.”

Five dropped back onto his elbows on Reginald’s desk, eyes hooded. “Why, you’d rather get me naked instead?”

Diego groaned. “God, you’re a fucking fantasy,” he said, following Five down and crushing their lips together again. It took him a few minutes to remember exactly why this was such a bad idea. “We can’t do this here,” he breathed out. He wasn’t sure when Five’s hands had gone up his shirt. It seemed like something he should have been keeping better track of.

“Of course we can,” Five said. “We can do anything we want.”

“No, _you_ can do anything you want,” Diego said, flicking Five’s forehead. “Most of us can’t teleport away from any sign of trouble.”

“You really think I would ditch you here if he came back?” Five said.

“Says the boy who’s midway through setting me up to take the fall for stealing two grand,” Diego said.

Five smiled. If Diego hadn’t known him better, those angel eyes would have fooled him good. “Not you specifically.”

“Somehow, not reassuring,” Diego said. He reluctantly disentangled himself from Five, prying Five’s hands out from under his shirt. “Come on, get your ass up before we both get busted.”

“For those lips, it might be worth it,” Five murmured, eyes fixed on Diego’s mouth.

Diego faltered.

“Better hurry,” Five said, tugging at Diego’s untucked shirt. “Vanya won’t hold him forever.”

In a flash, he was gone.

“You little _bitch_ ,” Diego said, scrambling to reset Reginald’s desk.

“Five’s being weird,” Ben said, materializing next to Diego as suddenly as Five ever had.

Diego jumped. “Christ!”

“Has he told you why?” Ben said, gaze intent. “I know you’re doing that whole weird…” He waved his hand.

“He told you about that?” Diego said, stomach lurching oddly.

Ben shot him a look. “You’re not subtle.”

“But has he said anything?” Diego said.

Ben sighed.

“He so did, I knew it,” Diego said. “What’d he say?” He grinned. “He tell you I’m a good kisser?”

“The subject didn’t come up,” Ben said dryly.

“He say anything about my dick?” Diego said. “I know girl talk gets dirty, don’t deny it, and he’s such a blunt little bastard al—”

“What a good use of my time this is turning out to be,” Ben said. “I’m _so_ glad I asked you instead of Vanya.”

Diego’s stomach gave a considerably less pleasant lurch. “Why would Vanya know anything about Five acting weird?” He forced a grin. “Are they playing gay chicken too?”

“He tells her things,” Ben said. “Are you seriously still pretending that you’re just playing gay chicken with him?”

Diego might not have been the most sensitive boy around, but even he didn’t need to have it spelled out that his thing with Five had become more than just gay chicken. His siblings could be so condescending. “Tells her things like what?”

“Like why he’s being weird, probably,” Ben said. “Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed something,” Diego admitted.

“If you figure it out —” Ben said, then turned his head when Five stalked out of Reginald’s office, eyes stormy. “Whoa. Or maybe figure that out first.”

“Yeah,” Diego said, already heading over.

He caught Five around the wrist, halting him. “Hey, whoa. Hold up, sweetheart.”

Five glared up at him.

“Is everything okay?” Diego said. He dropped his voice. “Did he find out about…?”

“No,” Five said. “He’s just being a controlling piece of shit as always.” In contrast to Diego, his voice raised with every word. By the end of the sentence, he was nearly shouting.

“Christ!” Diego said, forcing Five back into a secluded alcove. “Jesus, Five, you can’t talk like that.”

Five narrowed his eyes even more. “Can’t I?”

Diego ran his hand through his own hair, swimming upstream in this conversation. “What did he say to you?”

“Does it matter?” Five said. “It’s always the same bullshit. I’m tired of saying _how high.”_

“Five…” Diego said.

Five gave an impatient noise and tried to push past Diego to leave.

“Hey,” Diego said, injecting some iron into his voice, a trick he’d learned from Reginald. By the way Five stilled, he wasn’t immune.

Diego settled his hand on Five’s waist. “I’m not the bad guy here. I’m in here with you. Tell me you know that.”

“Spare me the leaderly pep talk,” Five said. “You’re not as good at them as Number One anyway.”

Diego recoiled a little. Five always knew just how to twist the knife. There was a reason he was their father’s favorite, despite how much Luther wanted and tried to be. “Ouch,” Diego said after a moment, but it didn’t come out as blithe as he intended. “Not entirely sure what I did to deserve that.”

Five grimaced. He looked away, then looked back — opened his mouth, then shut it again: the familiar dance of a Five who knew he was in the wrong.

The kiss he dragged Diego into was new, though.

New, and not unwelcome. Diego groaned a little into Five’s mouth, half surprise and half pleasure, unable not to react. He wrapped his arms around Five’s waist, dragging Five against his body, endeared despite himself at how Five had to stretch onto his tiptoes to reach.

Five had to tear away to breathe first, but he immediately started moving his lips down Diego’s neck, nipping, biting, sucking. The need clouding Diego’s head like a rising fog kept him from realizing just how long Five had settled at one point until he’d moved off, the spot raw in the cool air.

Diego touched his neck, eyes widening. “Did you just —”

Five half-smiled.

“Jesus Christ,” Diego said, shoving him away. “Just —” He scrubbed spit off his neck, checking the mark in the polished reflection of one of his knives. He could hide it under his shirt collar, he realized with relief.

When he turned back, Five was watching him with open contempt. “You’re so full of shit, Diego,” he said, imperious and cool.

Diego academically knew better than to argue with Five when he’d hit that point. Five was an asshole when he got heated, but he was surgically cruel when he went cold. But Diego was getting pretty pissed off himself, tired of being jerked around on Five’s stupid power trip. “Because I’m not joining in on your identity crisis?”

“Because you think you’re such a badass, but the tiniest rebellions send you scurrying back to hide behind Mom’s skirts,” Five said. “When it comes down to it, you have the spine of a marshmallow.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Diego said. “Where do you get off? Just because I don’t have, like, an exhibition kink, you’re getting all armchair psychologist on me?”

“Oh, you want me to play armchair psychologist?” Five said, eyes gleaming. “Tell me something, Diego, do you think I’m hot?”

Diego faltered. He hated not being able to tell where Five was going with this, and hated the vulnerability of both of them knowing the answer to Five’s question. “Yeah,” he said, quieter. “You know I do.”

“Yeah, you’ve said,” Five said. “Just like a fantasy, right? Like a _sex dream_. Like your goddamn imaginary friend, right?”

Diego ran his tongue over his teeth.

“For all your big talk, you’ve never thought about doing anything but marching to the beat of Dad’s drum,” Five said. “There’s a reason you talk about me like something you’re never going to be able to have.”

Diego hated how certain Five sounded, and how difficult it was to muster the words for his own defense. Finally, when the lump left his throat enough to speak, he said, “You think pretty highly of yourself, huh? If you think kissing you is worth getting thrown in the tank for 24 hours.”

Five’s eyes widened.

“The rest of us, we don’t get to teleport away when he wants to punish us,” Diego said quietly. “You have no idea what it means to endure.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Five said.

“It’s not the same,” Diego said.

Five quirked his lips. “Isn’t it, though?”

He walked away, which was rare — not the part where he left after getting in the last word, but usually he preferred to teleport away from arguments.

Diego wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Ben slid up next to him as they stretched before training. “So?”

His fight with Five had distracted Diego such that he could only blink, thrown. “So what?”

“So what’s Five been so weird about?” Ben said. “And why was he so pissed off leaving Dad’s office?”

Diego shook his head. “I don’t know, something about Dad being a controlling piece of shit. He didn’t get specific.”

“Uh huh,” Ben said. “And the rest?”

Diego shrugged. “Tired of the grind, I guess.”

“So is he leaving?” Ben said impatiently.

Diego blinked once. He hadn’t consciously let himself put words to the possibility, but somehow it was like the idea had always been in his head. “Soon,” he said, and he knew the truth of it as it left his mouth.

“Yeah,” Ben said, suddenly tired. “I thought so.”

Diego swallowed, going back to his stretches.

Ben looked around. “Where is he, anyway?”

“He’ll show up right before Dad gets here,” Diego said. “He always does.”

“He’s late, though,” Ben said.

Looking at the clock, Diego saw that Ben was right. He frowned a little — and frowned a little more when Five entered with Klaus, the two of them in deep conversation.

There was something strangely pretty about Five right then, Diego thought: a flush to his skin, a shine in his eyes, an easy grace to his motions that caught the eye without any effort. He could have been a prince from a fantasy novel, impossibly beautiful and rendered alien by it. The quality of the Mona Lisa’s smile embodied in his whole being. Was it confidence alone that dialed up his appeal?

Then Five tripped over his own feet going to sit down and Diego realized, _oh, no, he’s just drunk_.

“Great,” Ben said. “There’s two of them.”

“Great,” Diego said quietly.

Diego nabbed Five for pairs sparring before Allison could move towards him. “Spar with your boyfriend this time, yeah?” he said to her as he grabbed Five by the elbow, dragging him away.

“Gah,” Five said, stumbling after him.

“I like sparring with your boyfriend better,” she said, but walked over to Luther, arms stretched over her head.

“What the hell are you doing?” Diego said to Five as they both got into position. “You trying to prove a point to me about what a fucking rebel you are?”

Five snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, Diego, this has nothing to do with you.”

“Bullshit it doesn’t,” Diego said as he threw a punch at half-speed, hoping not to catch Reginald’s attention as he watched their work.

“What, do you really think I’m upset that you suck at gay chicken?” Five said, easily dodging Diego’s punch and throwing a jab back that Diego barely pivoted to avoid. “Please.”

“Fuck you, man, we both know it’s not just fucking gay chicken,” Diego said, scowling both at Five’s words and that somehow he was _better_ at hand-to-hand when he was plastered. “In fact, I think you’re upset that it turned into more than it was supposed to be.”

“More of what?” Five said with a scoff. “In what way did it turn into _more?”_

Diego faltered. Five was always blunt, often brutally so. He wouldn’t lie even to protect his own feelings, and Diego considered for the first time that it had only seemed like more in his own head.

“Do you truly believe a few playground kisses with you have me twisted up? Christ, you must think I’m so small-minded,” Five said. “Your definition of more leaves something to be desired.”

“So — what, then?” Diego said. “You want me to suck your dick, is that it?”

“Congratulations, you have never missed the point more in your entire life,” Five said, sweeping his legs out and knocking Diego on his ass.

Diego picked himself up. “I don’t think I did.”

“I don’t think you get to say that,” Five said. “Because you definitely fucking did.”

Diego dodged Five’s strike, frustrated and lost. “Then what’s the point?”

Five huffed. “The point? The point is, you keep pulling me back. The point is, it’s a lot harder to plan when you have no goddamn clue what the end goal is. The point is, we need to renegotiate the definition of _more_.”

“You’re not making sense,” Diego said.

“Course not, I’m drunk,” Five said. “But in the morning, I’ll be sober and Winston Churchill will be ugly and we’ll both still be here, hm?”

His next punch laid Diego out on his ass again.

“Pick yourself up, Number Two,” Reginald said from behind him. “A passable performance, Number Five.”

“Oh, ain’t that the truth,” Five said under his breath.

Diego tilted his face up into the shower spray and composed apologies in his head.

No, not apologies. He didn’t have a damn thing to apologize for. But conversations starts, discussion points — entries to the dialogue that neither of them had begun out loud, no matter how much they’d both been thinking about it.

_Of course you want to leave. Do you really think I haven’t thought about it myself, you arrogant, self-absorbed little twerp —_

Too antagonistic.

 _I have nightmares about drowning, you know. It doesn’t matter that it’s the least likely way for me to die — I get them relatively often, and I always know it’s one of_ those _dreams when the black starts creeping in around me. I obsess over what it must be like. Sometimes I try to imagine how it would feel, that pressure crushing my chest. Do you think it makes you dizzy?_

Too honest.

_Don’t you realize that we’re all in the same boat? Do you really think I’m too dumb to know that competition is just another way to keep us at odds? That he tells you you’re the smartest for the same reason he tells Luther he’s the leader and the same reason he tells Klaus he has the most potential and he doesn’t tell me a damn thing —_

Getting away from the point.

_Why didn’t you say something, if you’re so unhappy? Why wasn’t I part of the conversation? Why am I important enough to blame for holding you back but not important enough to ask to take with you? Why don’t I matter, why don’t you trust me, why —_

Just fucking pathetic.

_If you want to touch my dick that bad, you could have said so._

He’d call that Plan B.

“Hey,” Five said when he opened the door. He rubbed his face. “I’m tired, so if we’re going to argue more, I’ll be at roughly 70% efficacy.”

Diego spread a hand on his sternum and gently pushed him back into his room, following him in and shutting the door behind them.

Five raised his eyebrows even as he let himself be propelled backwards. “I can still beat the shit out of you hungover, I hope you’re aware.”

“Christ, what do you think I’m here for?” Diego said, and kissed Five before he could answer.

Five gave the sweetest little sigh against his lips, and Diego drank it in eagerly, hands curled around Five’s jaw, holding him there while he kissed the breath out of him.

“Oh,” Five said, a little breathless. “I see.”

Diego chuckled, endeared. Then he quickly turned serious. “Door’s shut, Five. No one’s going to walk in on us — not Klaus, not anyone. That alright with you?”

“S’alright with me,” Five said, his voice as soft as his answering smile.

Only Five could heat up Diego’s stomach with so few words. “Good,” Diego said, and he dropped to his knees.

Five’s breath hitched.

“You might be an exhibitionist little shit, but I’m more private,” Diego said, gaze focused fixedly on Five’s belt buckle as he worked the end free. He couldn’t quite meet Five’s eyes as he said, “Or maybe possessive is the better word. I don’t like sharing in any capacity.”

Five threaded his fingers through Diego’s hair. “So no public sex, then?”

“Well,” Diego relented, “maybe for special occasions.” He peeled Five’s uniform pants down his hips.

Five vibrated with gentle laughter. “Good to know.”

“I’m not opposed to fucking you in a variety of locations,” Diego said. “But the purpose isn’t to get caught, for me. You fuck me to fuck _me_ , wherever we’re doing it.” He looked up into Five’s eyes seriously as he drew his thickening cock out of his pants, gaze intent. “Get me?”

One good thing about Five — he was always quick on the uptake. From the way his breath caught, Diego knew he hadn’t missed the hint.

“Wherever we’re doing it,” Five echoed. “Be it my room, your room, the back of the car, or… somewhere else entirely.”

“If you can even imagine that,” Diego said.

“Oh, I can imagine it,” Five murmured, smiling like the fucking sun.

“Hey,” Diego said, pausing. “I’d kiss you in front of Klaus if you wanted.”

Five glared up at him, eyes wild, hair in glorious disarray. “You’ve chosen — _now_ to discuss this?” he panted out.

Give Five was riding three of Diego’s fingers like he was getting paid for it, it was a fair question. Diego chuckled and resumed pumping his fingers in and out. “I’m just sayin’.”

“That’s not really — my point,” Five said, hooking his ankle behind Diego’s back and rolling his hips up. “Never was.”

“Really? Because you really seemed to want to show off in front of him,” Diego remarked, curling his fingers to watch the way Five jolted.

“Uh uh,” Five said, shaking his head. “Not actually, ah, my kink.”

Diego smirked. “Oh? Tell me more about your kinks, baby boy.”

Five cracked his eyes open and glared at him. “Nnh, are we back to this?” he said. “Can’t call me a virgin with — your fucking fingers inside me, jackass.”

“Says you,” Diego said.

“Says rational logic,” Five said. He groaned. “Are you going to — put your mouth on me — or not?” He thumped his heel against Diego’s back.

“Are you going to ask nicely?” Diego said, full of faux-sweetness.

“Power tripping motherfucker,” Five said, baring his teeth. “Suck it.”

“I genuinely can’t tell if you mean that literally or figuratively,” Diego remarked, but he lowered his head.

“Who said it needed to be one or the — oh, _fuck,”_ Five said, arching off the bed when Diego enveloped his cock in his mouth, sliding it all the way down his throat, a trick he’d practiced on half a dozen guys before. None of them had looked this pretty, though; none of them had whined so damn sweetly. Diego was bewitched.

“Fuck oh fuck oh _fuck ohfuck,”_ Five said.

Diego started to lift his head off.

“No, no no,” Five said, twisting his hands in Diego’s hair and dragging him back down. “No comments about whether I know any other words, make fun of me after I come, make me _come—”_

He liked Five knowing him so intimately, Diego thought, even as he cringed about being that predictable. He curled his hand around the base of Five’s cock, moving his mouth up and down on it, fast and light, perfect pressure, wanting to blow Five’s mind, to be so good for him—

Five stuffed his knuckles in his mouth to muffle his cry when he came.

 _In our next place, he won’t have to do that,_ Diego thought, somewhere in the back of his mind.

Diego shot Five a sidelong glance, waiting for him to swallow his bite of chicken.

Once he did, Diego nudged him.

Five glanced up.

Diego cocked an eyebrow, gesturing to the chicken.

Understanding, Five looked at the chicken with a considering glance, then shrugged and gave the sign for the number five.

Satisfied, Diego nodded and turned back to his own meal. Only dishes that merited a rating of seven or higher went into his little book of recipes to learn from Grace.

One of them had to learn to cook, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Five. Left to his own devices, he’d probably make those awful peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches for every meal.

Diego forked a potato and ate it, trying to determine what blend of spices she’d seasoned it with. Focused on this, he startled when he felt something settle on his leg. Looking down, he found Five’s hand there.

Five wasn’t looking at him, appearing entirely focused on his meal. Only the slightest hint of a smile curved his lips.

Glass tinkled as Grace refilled Allison’s water. Klaus absently juggled peas, trying unsuccessfully to catch them in his mouth, though more of them ended up scattered on the floor and table. Ben had his nose buried in some boring work of classical German literature, and Allison and Luther probably thought they were being subtle playing footsie under the table. Over this, a record droned about the best ways to properly forage for edible plants when lost in a boreal forest. 

Under the table, Diego took Five’s hand.


End file.
